


night in the sun

by mindero



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: 23rd Penny, 40th quentin, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 00:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17518592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindero/pseuds/mindero
Summary: Magic comes back and after the worlds collectively sigh in relief, everything goes more or less back to normal. At least everyone pretends it does.





	night in the sun

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is canon divergent because of two things: 1) I want everything to be chill for like TWO SECONDS so my kids can have a damn break and 2) my memories of s3 are a bit... foggy, so i'm not 100 % sure of what actually happened and what my brain made up sdkfjjds
> 
> anywho i hope you enjoy this !

Magic comes back and after the worlds collectively sigh in relief, everything goes more or less back to normal. At least everyone pretends it does.

Julia goes back to Earth, to Brakebills. She never got to experience it, she never got to learn magic the way she was supposed to, and Quentin can’t ask her to stay just because _he_ doesn’t feel like sitting in front of a desk for hours and doing homework and prepping for exams. After everything she’s gone through, being hedge witch then a goddess, she deserves some normalcy, as long as it fits her.     
  
Alice goes back too, but Quentin has no insight to her reasons. He wishes her well when she leaves, and neither of them mention him coming back. Maybe she knows he won’t, or maybe she just doesn’t want to know. Quentin doesn’t tell her, either.   
  
Kady doesn’t stay either, but Quentin doesn’t think school’s really something she wants to do even if she was allowed back. She’s still hurting over their Penny, still fucked over the other one. She and Quentin were never close, so he doesn’t realize she’s gone until days after, when Eliot mentions it.

Penny is… who knows where he is. Quentin isn’t quite sure what to make of him, because he’s Penny, but still not, and trying to wrap his head around the timeline thing just gives him a headache. What little he does know is that he hasn’t heard of a timeline where he and Penny had been friends. Allies maybe, but not real friends.

Quentin roams the castle, no longer as a King, but as the honorary guest of one. Margo’s determined to do well by her country, and Quentin doesn’t bother her. Despite occupying the same building they rarely see each other, maybe because the High King rarely has a reason to visit the library, maybe because Quentin knows this and therefore dedicates his time to skim through as many books as he can. He’s not avoiding her. He just doesn’t really want to see her, so he stays away. There’s a difference, he’s sure of it.  
  
Eliot stays in the castle, too, for a couple of weeks before he gets a look on his face like something’s bothering him and he can’t shake it off. Quentin knows him, maybe better than he knows himself; they lived an entire life together once. He thinks maybe, given enough time, they might figure out how to have that same sense of belonging to each other in this life, but it isn’t the right time. Eliot kisses his forehead before he goes to fix things with Fen and Fray, and Quentin only hurts a little. 

The truth is… Quentin is terribly bored and he’s never dealt well with boredom. Not before he knew about magic and not now. Back when this all was still new to him, Fogg told him that he wasn’t depressed, just lonely, but why is it that now that the crisis is over and he has friends he still feels like he’s out of place? He thinks Janet was right; she told him Brakebills was only making him feel like he belonged because it was taking him towards his goal, what he was supposed to be. Now that it’s done, going back to Brakebills doesn’t feel right. So despite having magic back, despite feeling less like a part of his soul is missing it still isn’t enough.  
  
He’s relieved – of course he is, now that there are not threats and he’s just allowed to be. He no longer feels like any minute might be his last or frets over whether or not the choices he makes result in the doom of entire worlds. Instead, there’s long days of not knowing what to do with himself now that he’s no longer wired tight with fear. Long days that stretch out and leave him worn out.   
  
He sits in the castle’s library, skims through another book of herbalism, and tries very hard not to be bored.   
  
The thing is, he has no idea what he’s supposed to do now. Magic is back and all is as well as it can be, he supposes. But there’s nothing urging him to make a decision, so he just kind of… doesn’t. He just skims through books, not really learning anything because he’s not actually reading and wonders when a purpose of life will drop at his feet, ready for him to take.   
  
Penny doesn’t really drop at his feet as much as appear in the middle of the room one day. He definitely isn’t a new purpose of life for Quentin, but he does offer a moment of distraction from his wallowing.   
  
”Jules said I might find you here,” Penny says, and promptly drops a Happy Meal on the table in front of Quentin. ”She also said you’re probably not eating, so.”   
  
Quentin looks between the smiling box and the definitely-not-smiling Penny. ”You brought me a Happy Meal?”   
  
”A kid meal for the moron acting like a child,” Penny says pointedly and takes a seat on the edge of the table.   
  
He’s not wrong. Even hearing him say it makes Quentin feel petulant and want to ignore the meal, like an actually five-year-old. He swallows any irritated comebacks that try to make their way out of his mouth and takes the box. He is hungry, and he knows he should eat, but sometimes he just doesn’t feel like getting up and getting food. Doesn’t seem worth the hassle.   
  
”Thanks,” he says and bites down on a few fries. It’s really fucking good, and he hadn’t even realized he’d missed something as simple as McDonald’s. He ignores Penny’s stare as he stuff more fries in his mouth.   
  
”You’re fucking welcome, listen…  you…” he trails off, then makes an irritated noise and leans in to snap his fingers in front of Quentin’s face. ”I wanna make sure you know that this-” he motions at the food ”- is not happening again. I’m not your parent or whatever the fuck. This is a show of good will, and I’m gonna need one back.”   
  
Quentin eyes him warily and takes a sip of his drink. It’s Coke Zero, so yeah, he gathers Penny doesn’t actually like him. But if he thinks he can come in bearing food and then expect Quentin to do whatever he tells him to, he’s wrong.

“I’m not talking to Julia for you,” Quentin says and sets down the cup.

“First of all, fuck you,” Penny says. He hops off the table and turns to lean over it with his hands bracing him. “Secondly, I can and _have_ talked to her by myself. Third: why would I ask you to do that when where I come from you were the one who got her killed.”

Quentin’s hands freeze over the table. “That wasn’t me.”

“No. That just could’ve been you if things had gone a bit differently.”

Quentin curls his fingers and leans back in his seat, swallowing. Penny’s right - again. “So, you don’t trust me. And you don’t like me, but you... you still brought me food and need me for something. What’s that?”

The corner of Penny’s mouth twitches. He runs his fingers over the loose pages containing descriptions of herbs, scanning the pages with his eyes. “You thinking of becoming a healer or something? Making salve for scrapes and shit?”

Quentin snatches some of the pages away from him. “Okay, just tell me what you want or leave, I don’t have the time for this.”

Penny looks pointedly around them, like he knows exactly how much time Quentin has in his hands. Thankfully, he doesn’t otherwise comment. Instead, he sighs and puts down the page still tangling from his fingers.

“I’m lost,” Penny says, neutrally. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to be, you know. Everything’s fine, no one’s trying to kill me, but I don’t really know how to deal with the freedom. I talked to Jules about it, and she told me to talk to you.”

“And you actually listened?” Quentin asks, the surprise evident in his voice.

“Yeah. Well, she told me that a couple of weeks ago, so it took some time.”

“Okay, but… why me?”

Penny cranes his head to roll his eyes at the ceiling. “Because she thinks I need to get with the program, moron. I need to deal with the differences of this timeline and my old one. Which means…”

“Getting over her and tolerating me,” Quentin finishes for him.

Penny shrugs. “Or trying, at least.”

“Right. And...”

“And because she’s Julia, she’s also thinking this might benefit you, too. She seems to be under the impression that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing either, and to be honest, I get it now. I mean, look at you, you’re a fucking mess.”

“Thanks,” Quentin says drily.

“You’re welcome.”

“So, what, we’re gonna have weekly group therapy sessions to get over ourselves?”

Penny snorts. “You really think we could get through even five minutes of heart to heart? I couldn’t stand you in my timeline, and I don’t think your relationship with my double was any better, so let’s not kid ourselves.”

Quentin grits his teeth and pushes his chair away from the table so he can stand up. He’s had enough of Penny talking down at him. “You keep contradicting me when I try to figure out what you’re planning, could you just tell me before you actually piss me off?”

Turns out standing up doesn’t really change the situation; Penny still has at least four inches on him. He smirks at Quentin like he knows exactly what he’s thinking and it amuses him.

“We’re gonna go traveling.”

Quentin blinks. “We’re what?”

“Trav-el-ing,” Penny repeats. “I hope you know what that means.”

Quentin stares at him in silence for a moment. He remembers Penny saying something about shows of good will, but this- this can’t be _it._

“Okay, so, how does me leaving to discover the worlds with you compare to you bringing me a burger?”

“It doesn’t- wow, you really are a moron,” Penny mutters and runs a hand down his face. “It just means that now you have to actually think about it - you’re not allowed to say no just because we annoy each other and can’t have a civil fucking conversation. That’s the deal. I’m gonna leave, and you’re gonna look at your plants and shit, and think real hard if you wanna spend the rest of your life waiting for a purpose instead of working for it.”

Quentin blinks at him, his mouth falling open slightly, and Penny makes a frustrated noise, before he swipes a few of the scattered pages off the table and disappears.

Who’s the kid now, Quentin thinks moodily. It isn’t until he’s angrily eating his burger with ketchup covering his fingers and and mouth that he thinks yes, it’s still probably him, and now he really does have to go, doesn’t he? He’s not going to be out-adulted by Penny. He wipes his fingers on his pants and starts gathering up the pages and books around him.

Goodbye boring herbalism.

 

* * *

 

 

Quentin takes a bath, finds some clean clothes for himself and goes to find Margo. He makes his way from the east wing to the throne room, and gets a few disapproving looks when he walks in, but no one actually tries to stop him. He comes to a halt at the edge of the room, his eyes finding Margo easily; she’s not sitting on the throne - instead she’s joined her advisors on the floor, and they’re having a quiet conversation. About what, Quentin can’t tell. She looks up, possibly sensing Quentin’s eyes on her and and holds up a finger, telling him to wait.

He does.

“So, you finally decided to stop isolating yourself and join the society,” is the first thing she says to him after he’s allowed to walk up to her.

Quentin scratches the back of his head and smiles at her sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to figure things out.”

“Uh-huh. And how’s that going for you?”

“Not that well. I might try something else.”

She smiles at him, and sneaks a hand on his elbow. “Join me for lunch and tell me about it?”

“Of course. I can’t refuse a High King’s request, now can I?”

She drags him out of the room, laughing. “You can’t, no.”

Quentin waits until they’re well into eating before he tells her about Penny’s visit. He bites the inside of his cheek, hard, when she almost spits out her wine, and focuses very hard on his plate when she glares at him for his timing.

“Will you go?” she asks after she has decided not to stab him with one of her knives.

“I might,” he admits. “You don’t really need me here, and I… I don’t actually have a reason to stay.”

“I could get you a job if you wanted,” Margo says, slowly. “But I do agree with you. You’re always welcome here, but this isn’t really your home, is it.”

“No, it isn’t. I don’t think I have one.”

“So, you find one. Go with him. Try not to kill each other. Bang him. Fall in love with him, I don’t know.”

Quentin groans and shudders involuntarily. “Margo, no. Just, no.”

Margo laughs at him, her fingers clutching at her fork and the other hand pressed against her chest. When she’s done, there are tears glistening at the corners of her eyes, and he finds himself smiling, too.

When was the last time he saw her be happy? Too long ago, for sure. It’s been too long for all of them, he thinks, and his chest tightens with longing.

It’s then that he makes his decision. He’s feeling warm from Margo’s company, and it’s been a while since Penny’s visit that he has mostly forgotten how they can’t stand each other. So, yes, he’ll go. When Penny comes back Quentin will go with him and find his purpose. Meaning, destiny, home, whatever. He can get that.

It’s possible.

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks later Quentin’s making his way from lunch with Margo towards the library when he sees Penny striding down the corridor towards him. 

“Yes or no?” Penny calls, loud enough for Quentin to hear even with the distance between them.

“Yes,” Quentin answers, without any of the lingering hesitation he might’ve been feeling prior to this.

A blink of an eye later Penny’s in front of him and before Quentin crashes into him, his fingers close around Quentin’s forearms, and then they’re gone.

 

* * *

 

 

The first world they land in is quiet and warm. There are miles and miles of beach on one side of Quentins peripheral and forest-covered mountains on the other. Penny let’s go of him the second they arrive, and both of them seem to think it wiser that they don’t talk.

Quentin dips his toes in the warm water and stares at the stretch of ocean in front of him while Penny pops in and out, bringing handfuls of equipment whenever he shows up again. A couple of changes of clothes, half a dozen of matches, a pot, a kettle, and on the last trip he brings back a small box of popsicles. He hands one to Quentin, and then they stand a few feet of distance between them, eating popsicles and staring at the horizon with no real idea of where they are.

“What now?” Quentin asks.

“Fuck if I know,” Penny answers.

Ten minutes later they’re fighting, and before anyone gets hit with either fists or magic, Penny digs his nails into Quentin shoulder and takes them the fuck away from there.

The second world has people in it which has Quentin exhaling in relief. He’s not really a people person, but there’s something very different in being alone in a room and being alone in a whole world. 

He’s not sure how different worlds work, and it seems statically impossible that they’d land somewhere with English-speaking humans or creatures in it, and yet it happens. It happens more often that not, he notices, as he and Penny hop worlds every few hours, unable to stay in one place for longer periods of time.

“We should just pick one and stay for a bit,” Quentin says after the tenth time they travel. 

“Why?” Penny asks. “They’re all wrong.”

Quentin agrees, but he does recognize that that might be more they’re fault than the worlds’.  “We haven’t tried.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe we should get back and forget about this.”

They stand on a patch of grass, surrounded by a forest that stretches long into the horizon, where its suddenly cut off by tall buildings. It instantly feels wrong to Quentin, without any kind of reason. He tries to shake the feeling off. Not as much because he wants to like it, but because he knows he can’t go back now that he finally got out. The thought of sitting in the large library in Fillory scares him. It’s just fear, plain and simple.

“Two days,” Penny says then, having changed his mind somewhere in the moments of silence. “Then we go someplace else.”

Quentin nods.

They end up staying for a week before switching worlds again.

 

* * *

 

 World #34 is not that bad. Maybe it’s because the Inn they stay in has decent beds, or that he buys a fishing rod and spends a few hours pulling colorful fish out of a river. It might be because for the first time in weeks he and Penny have a conversation that doesn’t end with one of them stomping off.

They’re sitting on a river bend, shoes off, Quentin’s hair tied with a ribbon and Penny’s head covered with an absolute abhorrent of a hat. He had bought it because it was ugly and when life sucks you really gotta get the amusement from wherever you can get it. If anyone had asked them, then of course they had earned their money fairly, but the truth is when you land in a world without any of the local currency, there simply no legal way to acquire some. So, they’d stolen money and with it gotten two rooms in an Inn, a fishing rod, an ugly hat and some bread for bait.

The bread is currently being eaten by a very un-fish Penny, but Quentin doesn’t really have enough energy in him to pick a fight over it, so he just watches the float swaying on the small waves and keeps quiet.

Next to him Penny uncrosses his legs, then crosses them again, sighing. He breaks the bread in half, tosses the other half to Quentin, then resumes eating.

“You’re never quiet,” he says after swallowing a piece.   

Quentin blinks lazily and frowns at the water. “What?”

“I said, you’re never quiet.” When Quentin turns to look at him questioningly, Penny taps two fingers against his temple.

The rod slips from Quentin’s fingers as he rushes to pull up the shield around his mind.

“What the _fuck,_ Penny?”

Penny laughs at him, the fucker.

“You’ve been listening to my thoughts all this time?” Quentin demands.

“It’s not my fault you don’t shield yourself.”

“You could’ve told me.”

Penny casts a look at him, and Quentin doesn’t need to be able to hear his thoughts to know he thinks Quentin’s a moron. “And pass the opportunity to see if you’re plotting to murder me? No thanks.”

“So you’ve been... evaluating me?”

Penny shrugs easily. “Sure, yeah.”

Quentin breathes in and out deeply and tries to calm his racing heart. He really should’ve known, he should’ve realized it before. It’s not like Penny’s been subtle, is it?

“And?” He asks.

“And what?”

“Do you trust me now that you’ve heard me essentially babble for days.”

Penny takes a bite out of his bread and chews. “Pending. Get back to me in three to five business days.”

“You…” Quentin starts, then snorts. “You’re a fucking jerk.”

Penny grins at him. “You can’t seriously be surprised.”

Quentin shakes his head and picks up his rod. When he checks the hook, he notices that something has eaten the bait when he wasn’t looking. It still isn’t quite enough to wipe the hint of a smile from his face.

 

* * *

 

 

A few weeks later they appear in the middle of a snowy hill. The cold startles Quentin and he ends up toppling over and landing on his back in the snow. 

Penny laughs so hard he almost falls too.

“How- how the fuck are you still alive?” Penny asks once he’s able to speak again.

Quentin pushes himself up on his elbows and looks up at Penny, shaking hair away from his face. “Luck, I guess.”

Penny snorts. He tilts his head and smirks down at Quentin. “It sure as hell isn’t skill.”

“Okay, yes, thank you. Can you stop mocking me now and fucking get us out of here?”

Penny’s still laughing when they land in world #39.  


 

* * *

 

There are days when Quentin misses. He misses Alice, he misses Eliot, misses Arielle and Ted and the family he hasn’t met, and it feels like he might die from it. He either doesn’t talk to Penny on those days or does nothing but snap at him. 

Penny figures early on that the best thing he can do is give Quentin a moment to grieve. He also figures that unless he stops it, Quentin might not resurface again. So, he drags him out of whatever establishment they’re in and reminds him he’s an _adult_ who has to take care of himself.

“Take some responsibility, Quentin,” he says, quietly, and pushes him towards the nearest place that sells food.

Quentin doesn’t tell him until the third time it’s happened. His hands are holding tight onto a flagon, his voice tight, his eyes burning. He doesn’t get very far in his story before his throat closes, so he lets the mental shield drop, lets Penny listen to his thoughts if he wants.

“That’s rough shit, Q,” Penny says. “Alice and Eliot, though, they’re still alive. Probably some your… grandkids, too, fuck that’s weird. Sorry.”

Quentin snorts and covers half his face with his hand. “Yeah, fucking tell me about it. But, I. I feel like the time with Alice and Eliot, it’s gone now. Or it isn’t here yet. It’s just... not the time.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Penny says and Quentin doesn’t have to be able to hear his thoughts to know he does. He remembers Penny’s face the first time he saw him, knows that if there’s someone who’s lost as much as Quentin, it’s him.

Penny gets it, and it helps.

 

* * *

 

They go back to Earth for a little while. Quentin doesn’t know if Jules is just really good at acting like seeing him and Penny be - what, friends? he thinks they might be - is normal or if she genuinely believed it would happen. They meet in a bar in a New York, drink a few beers, and act like people who haven’t been through hell just a few months prior. Julia looks better, more relaxed, even though there’s tightness in her eyes Quentin thinks might never leave. But she drinks beer and laughs when Penny tells her of all the way Quentin has made an ass of himself during the past few months and it’s… it’s good, Quentin thinks. 

There are a few times during the night when he catches Penny smiling at Julia in a way that he doesn’t usually smile - it’s softer, a little sad around the edges, and it never lasts long before he catches himself. Quentin runs his fingers along the ring of his glass, watches them as they talk and wonders if Penny would ask her if there was a chance she said yes.

The thought doesn’t sit well with him for some reason. He downs his beer in a few long gulps and when he sets down the glass, Julia and Penny are both looking at him.

He clears his throat before he says, “I’ve really missed Earth’s beer.”

Julia huffs a laugh, and Penny raises eyebrows at him. Quentin waves a hand at them and gets up to get another.

“You know, Quentin,” Penny says after they’ve parted with Julia. They’re walking down the street without a specific destination in mind; they haven’t really talked if they’re going to stay longer or leave, so their walk is more of something to do than trying to get somewhere. “For some reason, even in crowded places, I always hear your voice really fucking clearly. You might’ve heard this a few times before from your Penny, and _definitely_ have from me, but you should remember to keep your shield up.”

Quentin pulls the shield up, but it’s a bit too late now, isn’t it?

“Sorry.”

“She’s not her,” Penny says. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket and squares his shoulders. “I’m... I’m not going to get my Julia back, I know that. Pretending like your Julia is mine isn’t fair for anyone.“

“Right,” Quentin says, nodding. “But, do you think maybe you’re avoiding her a little bit? And getting to know her as she is in this timeline is not easy if you do.”

Penny throws him a puzzled look. “I’m not avoiding her. We literally just saw her.”

“Yeah, but the last time was months ago. I mean, there definitely are easier ways to go about it than traveling around the worlds. If you’re, you know, trying to avoid her.”

“Are you stupid, Quentin? Really, we’ve been traveling for months and you think I’m avoiding her?” Penny doesn’t seem angry as much as he thinks Quentin is being fucking hilarious. “I told you from the beginning I’m doing this to find my fucking place in this timeline. It’s also a good time to get over her instead of trailing after her like a love sick puppy.”

That startles a laugh out of Quentin. “A love sick… oh, my god.” He fastens his pace until he’s a few steps ahead of Penny, then looks over his shoulder at him. “So, now you’re trailing after me, instead.”

“Okay, first of all fuck you,” Penny says and grabs the sleeve of Quentin’s coat to pull him back into step with him. “Secondly, I don’t actually trail after anyone. I don’t have to.”

Quentin laughs again, staggering slightly. “Lovesick puppy traveler-”

“Quentin, I swear if you don’t shut your mouth I’ll take you to Antarctica and leave your ass to freeze to death.”

“Fine, fine.”

Quentin tries to wipe the smile from his smile, but it doesn’t come off. They walk for another thirty minutes before they decide to just stay in a motel somewhere in America. Penny’s fingers as they curl around the back of his neck feel cold against his skin, but it only lasts for a moment before they’re in Wisconsin, staring at the front of a shitty motel.

Quentin, though, he swears he can still feel them later when he’s lying in his lumpy bed and trying to sleep. He’s afraid that maybe this, this feeling that’s creeping between his ribs isn’t just the product of a few beers. He’s afraid that he might actually, truly be catching feelings for Penny, because that’s, that’s exactly what he needs in his life right now, huh?. He keeps the shield around his mind tightly in place, his fingers curling in the sheets like they could physically keep it up, because what he’s afraid of the most is Penny finding out.

He sends out a prayer to whichever god might be listening: _please don’t let it be true._

 

* * *

 

“Is it okay with you if we stay on Earth for a bit?” Penny asks the next morning, his voice still a bit raspy from sleep. “I’d like to see some places now that it’s safe.” 

“Sure,” Quentin says, and curses the gods.

 

* * *

 

 

They spend ten minutes in Lapland, wanting to see the Northern Lights, but turns out Scandinavia during winter is almost always cloudy, and all they get from that trip is frozen ears and bad moods. 

Another ten minutes is spent arguing in Rome. Penny thinks they should try sitting on top of the Colosseum, and Quentin tells him that he’s really rather _not_ die when it collapses from their collective weight. In the end Penny pops up there by himself, flips Quentin the finger, then appears next to Quentin a second later, like he never left.

In the span of three weeks they visit almost every part of the world, before Penny gets his fill and tells Quentin he’s good to go. Before leaving Earth Quentin requests they make one more stop in an alcohol store and, before setting foot on a new world, they detour by Fillory to leave wine on the pillows of Margo’s bed. She deserves some good alcohol every once in a while.

 

* * *

 

 

A thought looms in the back of Quentin’s mind and he doesn’t like it. It’s started making itself more and more nowadays, and Quentin might not be the brightest person and definitely not one hundred percent in touch with his emotions, but even he recognizes that it happens when his around Penny. And as it is, he’s around Penny a whole fucking lot. It keeps darting in and out, whispering _home_ at Quentin, like it’s mocking him.  

The thing is, he could have dealt with catching a small batch of feelings, but he’s never been good at that. His heart has always been more along the lines of go big or go home, so what actually happened was that the small batch aimed at his head, made him lose his footing and full on fall.

And now he feels home with Penny, which is just... awesome.

It’s weird because… this is Penny. Or well, up until a few years ago this was the same Penny Quentin knew and sort of tolerated, and it’s like. They share the same foundation, but somewhere during the pest years their foundations shifted, and nowadays it’s very hard for him to see the similarities between the Penny Quentin now knows and cares about and the one he knew first. The only comfort is that Penny knows exactly what he means. It’s more than a comfort, really - Quentin would be very worried if he still saw him as the one capable of getting rid of his shade and killing everyone.

He tries to talk to Penny about it once, to make more sense of it, but the closest thing he can think of to describe it is having two phones that are otherwise exactly alike except for the applications. Penny doesn’t like the analogy and the discussion ends there.

So, Quentin tries to deal with the fact that this is apparently his life now. He makes sure his mental shield is up constantly, and he thinks Penny notices, but he doesn’t mention it. Maybe he thinks Quentin has finally learned to keep it up through trial and error. Or maybe he knows Quentin is hiding something, but it’s nothing to worry about.  
  


 

* * *

 

They’re on a planet with three suns that never set at the same time. There’s always some light sneaking through gaps between the curtains in their room at the local Inn. Quentin’s lying in his bed, his fingers moving the pages of a book he can’t read because he doesn’t know the language, all the while he watches the light hit Penny’s face. It turns the brown in his eyes into gold and Quentin can’t physically stop himself from staring. 

A page turns, then another, and

Quentin thinks there isn’t a single person he’d rather love, and

Penny twitches like someone’s poked him with a needle. He glances at Quentin, catches his eye and quickly looks away.

“I need to-” he starts, sounding strange, and before Quentin hears the end of the sentence, he’s gone.

It takes him exactly five seconds to realize his shield was down.

 

* * *

 

Penny is gone for half an hour and Quentin spends the whole time panicking. He paces around the room, trying to figure out a way to fix things. He _cannot_ go back to the way things were before. He doesn’t ever want to see that library or the herbalism books again, if he even sets his eyes on wolfsbane ever again, he might lose it. 

You’re already losing it, he thinks and sits down on the edge of his bed. He buries his head in his hands and takes deep breaths in while he tries to clear his mind from the clutter of panicked _fuck fuck fuck_ s and get at least one coherent thought in.

When Penny comes back, he’s aim is a little off and he crashes into a chair. Quentin stares as he stumbles, trying to keep his balance, and ends up kicking the chair in retaliation.

There’s a moment, after the chair hits a wall, when they stare at each other in silence. Then Quentin remembers Penny’s _you’re never quiet,_ and he pulls the shield up so fast he feels static.

Penny must notice, because the moment it’s truly silent between them, he starts making his way across the room, coming to a stop in front of Quentin. He pulls Quentin up to his feet by his arms, and doesn’t let go. “Look. I freaked out a bit. I didn’t mean to leave you here, that was pretty fucking shitty.”

“It’s fine,” Quentin says and swallows, “I mean. It’s you know, not your fault. I, uh, had some weird thoughts, I didn’t even-”

“Don’t take it back.”

Quentin blinks. “What.”

“I said,” Penny repeats, “don’t fucking take it back.”

“O...kay.”

Penny closes his eyes briefly. “I went to see Julia.”

“That’s-”

Penny opens his eyes and glares at him. “Oh, my God, Quentin, can you- can you let me speak for like five seconds?”

Quentin closes his mouth. Penny watches him for a moment, like he’s making sure Quentin will actually listen.

“I asked her if you had feelings for your- the other Penny.”

Quentin sputters. “ _No,_ why would I- what the fuck, Penny?”

“Yeah I kinda figured that from the way she started laughing and then wouldn’t stop,” Penny mutters. “Look, I had to know, because I’ve been on the other end of that and it’s not good. I thought she’d know, so, I asked.”

“Right.”

“Yeah. And now that’s out of the way, I’m gonna kiss you.”

Quentin sucks in a startled breath as Penny trails one hand from his arm up to cup his cheek and leans down to press their lips together. He grabs onto the front of Penny’s shirt with both hands for support, and abandons any thought of caution and taking things slow. He opens his mouth, kissing Penny back like this might be his only chance. Half of his brain is still panicking, but once it catches up, Quentin pulls Penny by his shirt, turning them around until he can push him down onto the bed. He crawls over Penny, kisses him on his grinning mouth, on his jaw, and down his throat.

“Hey, hey, Q,” Penny says, his hand finding its way in Quentin’s hair and his fingers curling until he can gently pull Quentin back up to his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” Quentin mutters, and kisses him again.

And again.

And again.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time they visit Fillory, Margo takes one look at them, and pushes the advisor who was talking to her away from her line of sight. 

“Oh, Q,” she says in a lieu of a hello, “you actually did it, that’s fucking hysterical.”

Penny glances at Quentin, sees him _suffering,_ and gets them out of there.

 

* * *

 

They keep traveling between worlds, just because. There isn’t really a place that feels right for both of them, not in the way that being able to come and go does. Quentin kisses Penny in every world they’re in, and later demands they go back to every single one where he didn’t get the chance to. 

He doesn’t even care if it’s stupid - he’s fucking allowed every bit of happiness he can get, and now, instead of waiting for it, he takes it.  


End file.
